


Welcome Home.

by Aeshaettr



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Major Character Undeath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshaettr/pseuds/Aeshaettr
Summary: The Hunter dies many times.The Doll is there, every time.





	Welcome Home.

The first time, she was still sleeping.  
  
A stray swing from a mad hunter, and he fell, his throat cut.  
  
He awoke in the Dream, and the doll laid, lifeless.  
  
He rubbed at his throat, the phantom pain already fading, and went back into the City of Yharnam.  
  


* * *

The second time, she was awake, his insight enough to see her waking form.  
  
He started, briefly, jumpy after an ambush from a Beasted Hunter.  
  
Still, she smiled, and curtsied. "...Welcome home, good Hunter."  
  
He paused, but nodded, and bowed to her. Welcome home.  
  


* * *

The third, he was scared. A witch had clawed out his eyes, and he panicked.  
  
He blindly swung as he woke-up, causing a gasp from the beautiful doll.  
  
Then, cold hands stroked his cheeks, and he opened his eyes.  
  
"Welcome home." She said, softly, and in her porcelain arms he fell asleep.  
  


* * *

The fourth time, she was worried, memories trying to batter at her.  
  
So he got them for her, the small hair ornament, and a beautiful dress.  
  
She said she felt like crying, but dolls cannot cry.  
  
So instead, he took her into his arms, and held the dainty thing close, so she knew she had a friend.  
  


* * *

The fifth time, she was smiling, even with the paleblood moon hanging in the sky.  
  
"Welcome home, good hunter." She said, and pointed to the great tree in the field.  
  
"Gehrman awaits you." He paused, but nodded, and embraced her again.  
  
She did not speak, but her small arms slid into his, and she gave a happy hum.  
  


* * *

The sixth time, he was a feeble thing, but the seed of something impossible and wondrous.  
  
She took him into his arms, holding the tendrils of the imperfect Great One, and cried.  
  
"Welcome home. Good..hunter."  
  
The thing merely wiggled, uncaring or unknowing of the world around it.  
  


* * *

The seventh time, he had matured again, and he took her hand.  
  
She was startled, but looked into a face she knew, and beamed with joy.  
  
"Come with me." He said. "I want you by my side."  
  
And she did.  
  
"Welcome home, my precious doll."


End file.
